


Hot soup, fresh air

by NicoleCollard



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, First Kiss, Post-Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 05:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleCollard/pseuds/NicoleCollard
Summary: Jaime arrived in Winterfell seven days ago and he has already made himself at home thanks to a certain wench and her squire. After a sparring sesion, the cold weather makes them wish for a hot soup.





	Hot soup, fresh air

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, my friends. Here I go again.
> 
> I don't know where this story came from, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Forgive my little mistakes if you can, as I'm a non-native English speaker.

It was insanely cold outside Winterfell. The snowstorm howled in rage and hit the stone walls as if there were no tomorrow. Dothraki and Westerosi, wildlings and knights, lords and commoners, all gathered inside the castle for shelter.

There were two swordsmen still outside in the courtyard, though, a man and a woman. One would think they were fighting just to know who would lift the trophy for the most stubborn person in whole Westeros. Both were more or less the same height and equally strong. They were dancing around each other very calmly, as if the harsh snowstorm were just some light sea breeze: they just seemed oblivious to the freezing winds of winter, so absorbed they were in their routine. At some point, the man -who held his sword in his left hand since he was lacking his right- charged. The woman blocked the attack with relative ease, though she kept finding beating her opponent more and more difficult as days went by. After a few more blows, the man ended up on his back, one of the woman's knees right against his breastbone and the pointy end of her sword at his neck. Her face was furiously red due to the effort and the cold, but something close to happiness could also be seen on her features.

With an amused smirk, the man raised both his stump and left hand -which was no longer holding any sword- as a sign of surrender and coughed slightly to let the woman know that her knee was hurting his ribs without mercy. She registered his smile and blushed even more, realising all of a sudden that she had lowered her guard while sparring with him. Giving her opponent a shy nod, her face blank again, the woman stood up and held her left hand to help him on his feet. Although they were both wearing thick leather gloves, the contact made her shiver, as it always happened when they touched, but she made sure her face didn't show any signs of agitation in his presence.

They've known each other for a long time, they've been through so much together, and they still had a great war to fight side by side, but there was a line she knew the man would never be willing to cross with her despite the depths of her feelings for him, so she kept letting the walls raise around her heart. Since his unexpected arrival at Winterfell just one week ago, all on his own, he had started treating her with such familiarity that sometimes she allowed herself to dream, but reality always ended up striking: whenever she looked at herself in the mirror, all she could see was a beast, an ugly girl whose body was more of a man than a woman, a stupid wench that was neither a knight nor a lady. She knew that she was the man's only friend up north and that was the one reason why he kept looking for her company at all times.

“Brienne, you can let go of my hand. I would like to keep this one if possible”, the man said with a puzzled smile on his face.

Forcing herself to focus back on reality, the woman looked at him frowning, as if she didn't know what he was talking about, then she realised she was still gripping his left hand. With a sudden movement and a gasp, she let go of his fingers and her cheeks reddened even more.

“I-I'm sorry, Ser Jaime...”, she managed to say, embarrassment all over her face.

Jaime only snorted, then grabbed both Brienne's sword and his own to keep them away in the armoury before leaving the courtyard. When he came back, the woman had already regained her composure and had sworn to herself that she wouldn't make any more mistakes around him.

“I don't think there's enough hot soup in whole Winterfell to warm us up”, he commented while rubbing his remaining hand against his leg, “but I would gladly use some right now.”

As if he could read her mind and were resolved to make her fail in reaching her goal, Jaime offered her his arm, displaying on his features the most chivalrous expression Brienne had ever seen in her life.

“My lady?”, he even said to emphasise his gesture. His long greying hair was covered with snow, and his thick beard was also peppered with snowflakes here and there, which made him look even more handsome.

How did he dare to mock her like that? Brienne frowned and shook her head in annoyance, sure that her friend was just trying to tease her to have a good laugh at her expense. Without ceremony, she started to walk towards the entrance of the castle, leaving Jaime behind, but he soon caught up with her and strode all the way to the Great Hall along her in silence.

When they arrived at the crowded Great Hall, they were already serving whatever there was for dinner. Brienne was hoping for a really hot soup as well. They soon caught sight of an arm waving frantically at them from the far end of the room. Young Podrick Payne, Brienne's squire, was sitting with his back to the main gates, but had his body completely twisted in order to see his lady and her friend. He was undoubtedly trying to attract their attention with his gesture since there were some vacant seats on a bench right opposite him at the same table he was already eating at. Brienne and Jaime struggled to reach him, elbowing their way to the table. When they finally arrived, the man motioned towards the empty seats and said with a courteous, clear voice:

“My lady.”

“Ser Jaime, it really isn't necessary that you...”

“Come on, Brienne. Would you please start calling me just Jaime?”

She didn't reply and sat on the bench. Jaime imitated Brienne and sat very close to her in order not to let the cold air get between them.

Pod didn't even need a word: he got up immediately and grabbed two bowls, two slices of bread and two spoons for his friends, then put everything on the table right in front of them.

“Thanks, Pod, you're an angel”, Brienne told her squire, and the boy blused with joy, since his lady wasn't the complimenting type. The woman checked the contents of her bowl and discovered there was some brown soup inside it, indeed. She took off her gloves and placed both her bare hands on the hot surface of the recipient with a sigh. Out of the corner of her eye, Brienne saw Jaime doing exactly the same with his only hand, but after a few seconds, he grabbed his spoon and began to eat. He surely was thankful for not having to cut anything on his plate that evening.

Brienne had just started eating herself when she heard a well-known but not exactly cherished voice with a strong accent.

“I could let you lick that soup off my fingers if you wanted.”

With her heart hammering in disgust inside her chest, Brienne lifted her big blue eyes and looked at the owner of the voice with the fiercest of her expressions. It was that redheaded wildling, of course, the one called Tormund. That man lacked subtlety altogether. Hadn't she made it clear that she wasn't interested in his approaches? She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and shook her head, then ignored the wildling and went on eating her soup as if he weren't there. Jaime on his part let go of his spoon slowly and stared at Tormund with calculating eyes. The redhead held his gaze and leaned forward, forcing Pod to move to the side to make room for the wildling's foot on the bech. Then Tormund stepped on the empty seat and sat directly on the table in front of Brienne.

The table got shaken and the woman had to grab her bowl with both hands to prevent it from falling over, but she got them completely soaked in the process. Clenching her jaw, Brienne lifted her hands and let the droplets of soup fall on the wood. She needed to calm down or she would go for the wildling's jugular, so she took a deep breath to ask the man to leave her table in the most polite way possible, given the situation.

But then Jaime's left hand grabbed hers all of a sudden and brought it to his mouth. Without warning, he parted his lips enough to allow her index finger inside and sucked the soup off it with the most delighted expression Brienne had ever seen on his face. The woman's heart started beating furiously again, but for a very different reason this time. When he was done licking her index finger, he let go of her hand very softly and went back to his own soup as if nothing had happened, leaving Brienne completely shocked. For a few seconds, she couldn't take her eyes off him, and Tormund seemed to realise it at last, because he ended up leaving them without a word, equally shocked apparently.

Brienne swallowed hard and finally looked away. She found Pod's amused gaze, but the boy averted his eyes and erased the smile off his lips immediately.

A white napkin appeared out of the blue right in front of her nose. Jaime was holding it for her to clean her hands, but he didn't look at her. Brienne accepted it and nodded, suddenly too embarrassed to glance at him herself, and mayhaps a little offended as well.

She was finishing drying her fingers with the cloth, her heart still beating wild, when she heard Jaime get up and leave his seat by her side. Brienne kept her eyes fixed on him as he fought his way out the Great Hall, determined not to follow him, but she couldn't help it in the end. How could she let Jaime run away after what had just happened? Why had he licked her fingers, for the Seven's sake? Not that it hadn't worked, but if he just wanted to get rid of Tormund, there were a lot of things he could have done instead. Even if Jaime just considered her a comrade, she didn't think his gesture was appropriate at all.

So Brienne stood up and strode after the man, her head and heart incredibly confused. Anger was growing inside her chest as well as she followed Jaime out of the Great Hall. She finally reached him when he stopped by the only open window in the longest corridor of Winterfell. The snow got inside in gusts, blowing Jaime's locks back. He heard Brienne approach and looked at her.

“Why did you leave like that?”, she asked, her voice harsher than intended.

“I just needed some fresh air. It was too crowded in there”, Jaime said running his left hand through his beard.

“Well, fresh air is exactly what we have here.”

Jaime snorted while another gust of wind left some more snowflakes on top of his head. Brienne had to admit to herself that he looked more handsome than ever with that honest smile on his lips, his greying hair and the wrinkles around his green eyes.

“That's true”, he conceded and moved a little to the side to make room for her at the window.

Brienne hesitated, but then she approached him and leaned on the windowsill to let the freezing wind mess up her light blonde locks. She could sense Jaime's gaze on the side of her freckled face, but curiously enough, it didn't make her feel uncomfortable. The silence between them did, however, because she knew that what had just taken place in the Great Hall needed to be addressed or it could bring them apart for good, and she would rather die before letting that happen.

“Why did you do it?”, Brienne finally broke the silence in a weak voice.

“I thought that wildling was bothering you.”

“He definitely was, but that doesn't explain why you... did what you did, Ser.”

The man kept quiet for a few seconds before replying, a new light shining in his green eyes when he did at last. “I'll tell you if you call me just Jaime.”

Brienne pursed her lips and shot him an annoyed side-glance, but she finally complied. “Jaime.”

“I don't know”, Jaime confessed nonchalantly, which earned him a scowl.

“You lied!”

With a mischievous smile, the man shook his head and turned round, his back now to the window. “I'm not lying. I don't know why I did it, Brienne”, he paused, then his expression became serious before going on, “but I liked it.”

The woman's face got incredibly pale all of a sudden, which made her freckles stand out even more against her milky skin. She stood up slowly and then asked with the most trembling voice she had ever heard come out of her mouth, “You what?”

“I liked it”, Jaime repeated turning again to face her this time. Then he stepped a little closer.

Brienne was scared. She swallowed in order to moisturise her dry throat. There was a thin line they seemed about to cross after all, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to, when she had endured so much during the last few years to conceal her feelings. Past that point, there will be no return most likely. Where will that leave them then?

“May I try something, Brienne?”, Jaime asked, making her lose the thread of her thoughts. She wasn't sure about any of this, but this intimacy with him was incrediby intoxicating. When she hesitated and gave no answer, he pushed her a little further, “Please?”

Then Brienne, panting as she was, closed her eyes to regain some composure and gave Jaime an only nod to let him do whatever he felt like. She trusted him, after all. And her world shattered to pieces as if an enormous amount of wildfire had just exploded inside her body when Jaime's lips brushed against hers. The contact lasted just a few seconds, but it was enough for Brienne to know this was exactly what she wanted to do the rest of her life: sparring, having dinner and kissing Jaime Lannister. The kiss provided her with the warmth she had always been lacking and she didn't want to let go of that feeling.

When Jaime pulled away and they looked into each other's eyes, both realised something amazing was really going on between them. Their breathings were rushed, as well as their heart rates. Jaime raised his hand and cupped Brienne's cheek softly, as if she were the most precious thing in the whole world. No-one had ever looked at her or touched her like that in her life, so the woman felt like crying. She closed her eyes to prevent the tears from falling, since she didn't want to spoil the moment. She just placed her hand on top of Jaime's and abandoned herself to that perfect sensation.

A moment later, she felt Jaime's lips on hers again, and this time Brienne didn't fight the need to kiss him back. The kiss was clumsy, salty and insecure, but full of promises and unsaid truths. The second time Jaime pulled back, he immediately threw his stump around Brienne's waist and pulled her close to hold her against his chest for the first time. Her trembling hands surrounded his shoulders and she rested her cheek against Jaime's, still unable to believe that what they were doing right now was real and not one of her dreams.

“Don't be afraid”, Jaime whispered in her ear. His breath on her skin made the shorter hairs in her nape stand on end. “We'll figure this out. This is quite new for me as well, but I would like to try, if you...”

“So would I”, Brienne agreed, her lips mouthering the words against Jaime's hair.

Stepping back a little just to be able to look into Brienne's astonishing eyes, Jaime broke the embrace and stroke the woman's cheek gently. Both smiled at each other shyly but happily. Then he pushed his luck and dared to kiss Brienne's lips one more time.

When they finally broke apart, Jaime took the lady's hand and gave it a sweet peck on the back. She was still over the moon, so she didn't know what to do, how to react to his lovely gestures. Fortunately, Jaime took the lead and offered her his stump.

“I think there's some soup we need to finish. My lady?”

Brienne nodded once, then she did accept his arm this time. It could be the first of a great amount of them, but they would have to be careful. There was still a war to be fought and the future was uncertain. Their budding story could end up in the worst way possible.

But for the first time in her life, Brienne allowed herself to have hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
